


Glass Cannon

by PerfidiousFate



Category: Batman (Comics), We Are Robin (Comics)
Genre: Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-17 10:30:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11849709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PerfidiousFate/pseuds/PerfidiousFate
Summary: Duke and Damian grab a meal together. As always, it's a little more complicated than that.





	Glass Cannon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DoreyG](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoreyG/gifts).



> Your prompts really fun! I really love these two and their interactions, and all your prompts really captured my favorite dynamics of these. Hopefully, this story is at least somewhat to your liking! <3

He was nearing the end of his patrol – half an hour more, and then back home to catch a few hours of sleep before his first lecture – when Duke felt a presence nearby, and slowed, half-smiling in anticipation. He was getting better and better. Robin used to be able to sneak up on him always, but this time, he'd caught on before too long. A dirty alleyway covered in Joker graffiti and smelling faintly of Chinese was not where he wanted the reunion to happen, but hey, he'd take what he could get with this kid.

"Come on, Robin," he called out. "Don't be a creep. You can come say hi."

A whoosh. Duke turned around, and saw Damian frowning at him. His hood was up and his domino mask creased along with the lines of his face. He almost glowed in the faint streetlights.. "Robin doesn't say hi." His lips twitched though, at the familiar exchange.

He'd grown again, half a foot this time. The angles of his face were a little more sharply defined, his shoulders broader. He still had a growth spurt or two in him, but Duke could see the shape of the man he'd be soon enough. Duke grew a little wistful – he remembered the days Damian came up to his ribs. Heh. It was weird to watch the children around you grow up. Especially since he couldn't see it in person.

Which reminded him. Duke owed him a proper greeting.

Damian made a noise when Duke hugged him, like he was surprised. Which was strange, because it wasn't as if Duke didn't telegraph his movements. Nonetheless, his arms moved cautiously around Duke, and then pressed him closer. Damian was still short enough that Duke could bury his face in Damian's hair, and grin. Damian was there and solid and seemingly unhurt, and letting Duke touch him without proverbially hissing. He deserved to take a moment to appreciate this, okay?

"I haven't seen you in forever, dude," he said, pushing Damian away to arm's length. "Like, a year? I missed you. Things haven't been the same around here without you. You finished your mission?"

At his words, Damian twitched – Duke had to bite back a wince, because Damian always got so discombobulated at displays of genuine affection from anyone who wasn't Dick – and then he shrugged Duke off and frowned, folding his arms. "I have, yes. Due to the long and arduous nature of the missions, the Teen Titans are taking a break. I should be back in Gotham for the next few months. I have – noted your absence as well." And then his frown eased up slightly. "It's good to see you too, Lark. Sorry I haven't been answering your texts."

"It's cool, you've been busy," Duke said, and then grinned. "But wow, I thought Robin didn't miss people."

Damian sighed. "Don't be insufferable."

"Yeah, yeah." Duke threw an arm around Damian's shoulder. "Let's go change and grab dinner. Catch up."

"Dinner? It's almost breakfast time," Damian said, judgmental as ever, but he let himself get tugged along. It might've been the shadows glinting off his face, but Duke thought he saw a small smile.

* * *

Duke remembered the first time they'd eaten together – after that mission, the one that dissolved We Are Robin. Damian had been an utter asshole the entire time, and the ex-Robins – Dick, Jason, Tim – they'd been grim and too casual in terms. Fucking cool, but also really, really intimidating. And then there was fighting and Damian had put on a mask, and his shoulders had stiffened when Duke revealed that he'd figured out who he was, but – at the end of the night, he'd still come to see Duke. He'd scowled and griped, but agreed to come eat with him.

And it had been fun. Damian was like an angry cat, liable to turn on you at the drop of the hat, but between that he was an awkward twelve-year old who was clever, well-spoken, and kind of hilarious? Plus, he was Robin. Duke had been Robin too. All Robins were weird as hell: it was a fact of life. It bonded them together more than anything else. Duke could get used to him.

They'd spent the meal exchanging quips and exchanging battle stories, and Duke could still never get used to the fact that he had _battle stories_ now. Damian had smirked often, but smiled sometimes too. He gushed about his cat and his dog. He complained about Dick with an edge of fondness, and gleefully shared stories that painted his father n a less than flattering light. Duke, in turn, told him about We Are Robin, and Izzy and Dax and Dre and Riko and hell, even Troy. What little he remembered of him. But they were all crazy as hell and kind of beautiful, so he had to talk about them. He talked about school and foster care and even a bit about his parents, though it felt like his heart was being ripped out when he did. Damian had thrown him an even look, and changed the subject then. That was kinda cool. Not necessarily, but still kinda cool of him. And Duke could understand, too: Damian hadn't mentioned his mother at all in his stories.

There was a weird moment, though. Duke had been asking about the other Robins. Damian had lit up when talking about Dick – which Duke didn't really get, because Nightwing was cool and all, but he wasn't God's gift to the planet or anything, was he? – but when asked about Jason Todd and Tim Drake, he clammed up.

Damian stabbed at his plate, his scowl firmly in place. "Todd and Drake? They treat me as if I were a hand grenade, liable to explode at any moment."

He gesticulated. For all that he was Batman's kid, and for all that everyone operated on the assumption that he was as cold and gruff as his father - Damian was one of the most expressive people Duke had ever met. It was impressive. "And I listened to the footage, afterwards - you know what Todd said? He said he didn't like it when I ran off, because I'm too 'wild'. _Todd_ said that." He sneered. "As if I were a _dog_."

There was a moment of silence, as Duke blinked and tried to think of what to say. But if there was one thing both he and Damian appreciated, it was bluntness. "I don't think they don't respect you. I think...they love you."

Damian stilled, fingers paling on his fork. Then he resumed, motions violent. "Tch. As if you'd know." His shoulders twitched – he wanted to pull a hood he wasn't wearing up.

And Duke – kind of got that. When his parents disappeared, there were a lot of strangers who thought they knew what he was feeling or thinking. They didn't. It was patronizing. Still, he couldn't just – let it be. So instead he shrugged, and reached over to poke Damian's cheek.

Damian recoiled, slapping a hand to his cheek and looking affronted. Duke had just met his glare head-on.

"They do care about you," he said. "Trust me. I know those kinds of things. And, like – I've only known you a day, and you kicked my ass the entire time, and I already care about you, too." He shrugged, and took another bite of his burger. Mm. Relish.

Damian had stared, and then his cheeks had darkened. He ducked his head, and didn't say anything else, other than a muttered, "God, you're so mushy." But that was enough.

Damian, Duke had concluded at the end of that, was a good kid. Fun to hang out with, despite the emotional baggage.

"You're not so bad, Thomas," Damian had told him loftily afterwards, standing up and throwing his hood over his head. "We should do this again sometime. I'll be in touch." Duke grinned at him. Damian was pretty hilarious.

"Sure," he said. "Looking forward to it, man."

And that was the beginning of it.

* * *

Later, after Batman asked him to work with him, and he'd gotten to know the rest of Gotham's crusaders – and they were all so quick and clever and so broken, what the fuck even? What was Duke even doing there, amidst these dangerous, damaged people? He just wanted his parents back. But after he'd gotten to know them, started to hang out with the others – that was when he realized something was a little strange.

When Duke had, offhandedly, mentioned that he and Damian had hung out, Tim and Steph had stared at him openly.

"How did you _do_ that?" Tim had demanded. "He actually likes you? He doesn't like _anyone_."

"Except for his animals, Maya, and Dick," Steph added, but she was still leveraging a curious look at Duke. "But Dick shouldn't really count. He's like the free space in Bingo. Everyone likes him."

Duke shrugged. "Damian's cool," he said. "We just hung out. Why, what do you guys do?"

And that had set off a long rant about Damian and his grudge against Tim, and Steph to a lesser degree, and Duke had learned that Damian really, really didn’t like anyone other than Dick, his animals, Maya (whoever that was), and now, apparently, Duke.

Which was kind of crazy, but whatever. The Bats were all crazy anyway.

* * *

In hindsight, he should have known he was in trouble then.

* * *

Over three years later. Damian was sixteen and growing up sharp and kind of gorgeous, Duke was juggling college and being a superhero, and Damian had just dropped into his patrol and demanded dinner/breakfast.

They'd changed into civilian clothes, and headed off to a diner in a comfortable silence. Duke found himself eyeing Damian out of the corner of his eye. Damian looked so _strange_ , so grown up now, but still exactly like himself too.

And…Duke had met Bruce, obviously, but he also met Talia. Talia had been dangerous and beautiful and so, so fucked up. She'd tried to kill him. She'd talked of Bruce and Damian with so much love in her eyes it hurt to behold. She put on the same haughty airs that Damian did, and was as passionate as he was. He could see that she was broken in much the same way as Damian was, but unlike her son, was unwilling to change.

It was strange, to see Damian growing more and more into her. Duke wondered if it ever bothered Bruce, but brushed the thought away. He wondered if it ever bothered Damian, instead. Duke loved that he had his mother's nose, his father's jawline, his grandmother's eyes – but he loved his family so, so much, and they'd never made him turn into a killer. Damian would see his mother every time he looked into a mirror for the rest of his life.

"What?" Damian grumbled, sticking his hands into his pockets. "You look like a fool, Duke. Stop staring at me."

Duke blushed, though he knew it wouldn't show up on his skin, and turned away. "Shut up," was his weak reply, and Damian snorted. But still, it wasn't _uncomfortable_.

That was kind of Duke's favorite thing about Damian. It was never, ever uncomfortable with him, for all that he was erratic and violent and kind of crazy awesome, too. It was never, ever boring.

* * *

When Damian found out about Duke being invited to move in, he'd tried to punch Duke. (The fact that he was trying meant that he wasn't really serious about it – if he'd wanted to, he succeeded – but the sentiment hurt nonetheless.)

"Oh, come on!" Duke had gasped out between dodges. "Do you not want me to live at the mansion? I can tell Bruce no." And he would. Bruce's eyes were kind when he offered, but – Duke wasn't a charity case. He could take care of himself. And Damian was already so awkward in his position in the family. He could understand Damian's trepidation.

But Damian surprised him, by pausing mid-strike and scowling so furiously a glacier could melt.

"Don't be idiotic," he snapped, and jabbed Duke in the chest. "Of _course_ you can live with Father. It's not as if those morons fostering you can adequately provide for your needs, either monetarily or emotionally."

"Wh- " Duke was thrown for a loop, furrowing his brows. "They're nice people."

Damian scoffed. "'Nice' or not, Father is clearly the superior choice for providing for your needs. And Pennyworth would be able to meet your nutritional needs."

"Uh…" Okay then. "So, why're you attacking me?"

Damian glared. "So that you don't _forget_ ," he said, and jabbed Duke in the chest again. "You may be staying with us, and working with Father, but you're a guest. A temporary resident. You're not joining the family."

Duke gaped. "I don't want to join the family," he said. "I already have one."

"Be that as it may," Damian said, and then his glare melted. "Todd and Drake are already infuriatingly present in my life. I don't _want_ another brother."

His eyes were very, very blank. Duke bit his lip, and nodded. "Sure, man," he agreed, easily enough. "We're friends. We don't have to be brothers."

He knew he said the right thing when the tension in Damian's shoulders eased, and he smiled this awkward, tiny smile.

* * *

The truth about Duke was this: he felt the itching deep in his bones sometimes. He didn't belong here. What was he doing here? In this fancy house, where there was a _butler_ , with composed Bruce who ate burgers with a knife and fork. What the hell was Duke doing here?

Because he was smart. He knew that. Not in a school way - sometimes he looked at his homework and he had trouble even reading it, because it was so _stupid_ , find x and write a paragraph on the significance of the Cuban Missile Crisis and give an example of a metaphor. His parents were foaming at their mouths crazy, and his teachers wanted him to do this aimless, pointless bullshit. So yeah, his grades had plummeted, even though Alfred was trying to work on that with him. But Duke was smart, he was clever, and it -

It wasn't enough. Sure, he could make peace with the fact that he was never going to be as smart as Bruce was - Bruce Wayne was Batman, he was a bona fide genius. No one was as smart as he was. But he wasn't as smart as Tim either, Tim who invented technology and set up all their systems and could outstrategize the League of Assassins. He wasn't as smart as Nightwing, who didn't come off as a genius until you saw him work a case or lead a team, and then you could see the brilliance in his eyes. He wasn't as smart as Jason, and Jason didn't even have the luxury of an education like all the other Batkids did - he'd grown up on the streets, and then he'd died, and he could still think circles around everyone else. So could Steph, and she was the daughter of a supervillain. So could Cass, and her upbringing was so fucked up most people couldn't even compare. Duke wasn't even as smart as Damian, who was _sixteen_ and impulsive as hell - he was a genius too, and Duke absolutely believed him when he'd told him he had the equivalent of PhD's in economics, history, physics and biology.

Duke just wanted to help people. And he was pretty smart, but not smart _enough_ , and he was fast and strong, but he didn't bleed perfection. He was part of the caped community, sure, but he definitely wasn't a _Bat_. Not the way it counted. He didn't want to be.

"You're being stupid."

"What?" Duke stopped mid-bite. He kind of felt like he'd been punched in the gut. Something that, ever since he put on the Robin colors, he'd felt a hell of a lot.

Damian sighed. He looked strangely elegant even in his hoodie, bruise darkening his jaw, hair lit up from the cheap lighting of the diner. He looked up from where he'd been devouring his vegetarian burger.

"You think too loud," he informed Duke. "And really. You're just as much a part of us as anyone."

Duke blinked. "What?"

Damian sighed, but Duke could see the red creeping up his cheeks, his forehead. "I told you already," he grumbled, "You're fine as you are. Better than fine. Even if you're not like the rest of us. I don't want another _brother._ "

"I..." Duke's mouth was dry. He swallowed. "I'm not sure what you're talking about." 

"Oh, for God's sake." Damian rolled his eyes. As expressive as always. For a moment, he looked breathtaking.

And then Damian's lips were on his.

Duke didn't understand - one moment, they were eating, and the next Damian was half-sprawled across the table, elbowing the food out of the way, and his mouth was on Duke's. His eyes were screwed shut determinedly.

He tasted a little like salt and vinegar. This was, all things considered, exactly what Damian would taste like.

Duke couldn't help it. He kissed back. Even though he hadn't seen Damian in a year - even though Damian still had so many edges that cut everyone around him - all in all, Duke liked him. He had fun with him.

Damian drew back, and his smirk was entirely-self satisfied. But he was blushing.

"Both my parents are going to kill you," he informed Duke. "If...you want to do this." For a moment, he looked unsure.

Duke sighed, considered for a moment. "Not the craziest thing I've done," he said, and picked up his food. "But really man. Stop with the ambushes. It's getting kind of old."

And Damian smiled, awkward and brilliant and full of promise.

So okay. Maybe Duke did belong, after all. Even if it was just with a crazy assassin kid who was kind of the weirdest, awkward, most hilarious person in the world. 

Watching the way Damian's eyes shined, Duke couldn't help but smile himself. He had no idea what he was doing, but...he really could do much, much worse. 


End file.
